


It's Still You

by stars_fall_on



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Humor, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, past season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-06-09 13:00:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15268032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stars_fall_on/pseuds/stars_fall_on
Summary: After getting out of jail, Ian finally gets the push to do what he should have done a long time ago. Thanks to his smart brother Lip. Who would have thought...!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> apparently I’m a sucker for past season 8 fics. So here I am (again). Trying to do Mickey justice, by Ian going after his man. It's a short two chapter. if you like it, maybe I'll add a third as an epilogue. Have fun and please leave a comment or a kudo if you enjoyed ;)
> 
> xoxo
> 
> Ps.: The Russian was translated by Google only. I have no idea what's standing there :D

Lip is smart. At least that‘s what he‘s thought all his life so far. Because he knows that shit about trigonometry, spectroscopy, chromatography, enzyme and a lot of other stuff privileged people get to learn in college. Even though his brain is full with the knowledge of this chemistry stuff, he’s not someone you’d call a freak or a nerd. He has friends. Two male friends from college and a few female friends with benefits. He’s even been through his many different kinds of experiences with this crazy little thing called _love_. The love he feels for his family is warm and comfortable; the love he feels for Kev and V is genuine and caring; the love for his friends is supportive and reliable; and the love for his exes differed considerably. The way he loved Karen was intoxicating and completely different from the way he loved Mandy. Loving Mandy was way more easy, even though she was another scary Milkovich. And the way he loved Helene, just felt like a mixture from the both of them.

So _yes_. Lip has already gained a lot of experience, knows a lot about _feelings_ or _love_ by now _._ But when he looks at his brother Ian and catches the sparkling behind his green irises and the whimsically smile on his lips whenever he talks about all the different shades of blue he has ever witnessed in Mickey Milkovich‘s eyes, then Lip thinks, he may know _nothing_. Because Lip has never felt that alive just from talking about one of the women listed above.

Maybe it has something to do with the gay genes Ian has in him and Lip definitely does not. Maybe they make Ian smarter or dumber about this thing called _love._ Maybe they just make him more open and vulnerable. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just Mickey _fucking_ Milkovich, who has dick whipped his brother, since he pissed on the first base many years ago.

Fact is, that Lip has never seen Ian so sad. So empty. So without any energy, even though his meds are working just fine. This has nothing to do with his bipolar disorder. But this has everything to do with _Mickey_.

With letting Mickey cross the boarder without him, only to go bat-shit crazy afterwards, trying to refill his life with something to _feel._ Because one look at his brother the moment he entered the door back from his trip to the Mexican boarder, Lip knew that he had lost him. He had lost his young, funny, clever, dorky ginger brother, who was full of hope and dreams when he was a teenager. When he was with Mickey.

He saw him trying to get his shit together after the diagnosis and after Mickey got locked up. He build himself a good life, with this strange trans kid Trevor, who’s somehow a chick but at the same time isn’t. What Trevor does or doesn’t have in his pants, is probably the only thing Lip Gallagher really never wants to know. But Ian did good. Got a job as an EMT, which seemed to be his passion. Something that was worth getting up day after day for. He goes to his weekly appointments with his therapist and adjusts his meds whenever he feels them getting a bit out of order. And even though Lip knew, that this new life was not the life he had with Mickey Milkovich before at all, he somehow thought that it made Ian happy. Until Mickey escaped and disappeared. And with him Ian, for a few days.

So when his brother entered the Gallagher house again, Lip knew it. Because Lip is smart. And Lip has learned a lot about _feelings_ and _love_ so far _._ Especially when it came to Ian.

His brother got it bad. He’s still head over heels, crazy in love with Mickey _fucking_ Milkovich and not even years of gathering your shit back to normality and surpressing every thought of the blue eyed man he used to love, will ever change that.

So he brought up Mickey in a talk about his short trip to the Mexican boarder and Lip got all the confirmation he needed with just one quick look into his brother’s love-filled eyes. But Ian didn’t let him dig deeper. Lip saw the hurt splattered across his face, when Ian told him that he left Mickey. And Lip never understood why.

Why did he leave him at the boarder and didn’t go with him when he had the chance to? The question burned into his soul, his brain, his mind. But he never asked. Because he just was glad he did. He always believed Ian could do better without Mickey. Would do better here in Chicago, by his family, his therapist, his doctors, his job and with Trevor.

_God how wrong he was!_

And so he watched him struggle for almost one year. One year, in which Ian first tried to be a hero for homeless gay kids; in which he got into a rivality with Fiona about a fucking church; in which he banged Trevor and other gross dudes, only to come back home more destroyed and insecure than ever before. One year, in which he acted weird and crazy, got out of his fucking mind by going all gay Jesus on everybody and burnt down a car as a swan song arc.

Unfortunately Lip didn’t (want to) realize it before. He had to see Ian getting arrested, before he finally let himself admit one thing: Only Mickey Milkovich could help Ian out of his crisis and breathe a touch of life into his dead looking silhouette again.

So while Ian was doing his time, three month plus a lot of social work, not really talking to anybody who came for a visit, Lip did some research. A fucking lot of research. Try finding a hiding fugitive without any contact details anywhere in Mexico. Good fucking luck!

But Lip _had_ luck. Because he was smart. And he knew the right people to ask the right questions.

So when Ian got out, slimmer and worse looking than ever before, with almost non stop red rimmed eyes, still not talking to anyone about his problems, Lip decided to end that shit.

One morning, when Ian sat behind the kitchen counter infront of his coffee and untouched toast, Lip dropped the bombshell: “Ian, go pack your shit.“

“ _What?“_ his brother’s look was confused, yet scared, “I commit a crime _one_ time and you throw me out? Remember what Fiona and you have already-“

“ _Ian,“_ his voice was as calm and smooth as he could manage. 22 years and he knows exactly which tone can take his brother's fear away. “No one’s throwing you out. But I‘ll give you a possibility.“

A breath that was stuck in Ian’s throat, escaped his lips as his eyes grew wide. “A possibility?“

“Yeah,“ he confirmed, stepping up to the kitchen counter where his redheaded brother sat and laid a small piece of ragged paper infront of him, “a possibility.“

For a few moments, he didn’t know what to do. If he should tell Ian to start breathing again, or punch him in the chest so that he’d take the breath instinctively. Because when Ian read the note, Lip could tell his whole world stopped spinning, and so did his breathing.

_Mickey Milkovich_

_Salvatierra Street 22, Playa del Amor_

_Cabo San Lucas, Mexico_

_23450_

Moments, seconds, minutes or hours passed, in which no one dared to speak. It was as if there was a certain magic in that moment. As if a transformation happened to Ian right infront of his brother with this piece of paper in his hands. His fingers started gently stroking it, as if it were the most precious treasure in his hands. As if something would shake him awake, giving him that very specific energy back Lip has missed in him for years. An energy that all those homeless gay children admiring and idolizing him, couldn’t give him. No fervid quarreling about a church, no messing with all the homophobic priests, no audience at his feet celebrating him as a hero and godsent prophet, none of his siblings, and certainly not Trevor. But a name on a crumpled piece of paper with an address could. And suddenly Ian breathed life again.

For that look on his face, you don‘t need a college degree to understand the hidden meaning on the freckled face that slowly stirrs awake.

_Hope. Relief. Love._

“How did you-?“

“I’ve got my connections.“

“What does it-?“

“mean?“ Lip ended the obvious question for him. His younger brother only nodded, his pupils slowly wandering from the paper to Lip’s blue eyes. “It means you get another chance, Ian.“ he started, recalling the words that have plagued him since Ian got home from his trip with Mickey almost a year ago. “I really don’t know why you didn’t go across the boarder with him when you had the chance. When it so obviously destroyed you everyday you had to spend here and not there. And even though I really, really don’t want you to leave, I’m still just the selfish prick you always accuse me of being; I can’t watch you be like this anymore. I can’t look at this depressed and sad face day by day, pretending that everything is fine. That you made the right decision. Because you obviously did _not_. For us maybe. But not for you.“

One of Ian’s teeth dug hard into his lower lip, while a single tear made its way down his cheek. Again, they shared a moment of silence, that was yet full of unanswered questions.

They didn’t even move or flinch, before Ian spoke up. “I didn’t want to be another Monica.“

And even though this was only a statement made of seven small words, Lip immediately understood the depth of this sentence. The brutality behind one single name. And again that’s not a matter of a college degree. It’s the fact of being a Gallagher, of having witnessed all the crazy shit your parents are capable of, your whole life long. Of being scared, that being a giant asshole lays in your DNA. That, no matter what you do, you're doing it wrong anyway. That you botch it up because you aren‘t able to make the right decisions. What Ian's example just confirmed. Though  _he_ only made the wrong decision for a good, honest and selfless reason.

He didn’t got over the boarder with the love of his life, just so that no one could think this was a Monica move. That his manic self once again took over him and he ran away from his life full of stability and normality. That he needed the kick, the adrenaline, to be on the run with a fugitive.

 _No_. Ian, and just because it’s _Ian_ , thought it was a better idea to stick with his family, his meds, his routine, his job and his boring boyfriend to prove to his siblings and to himself, that he can do better. That he won’t leave them and be once again the black sheep everybody worries about. Ian decided for himself his rationality, his sanity, his head. And as fucked up as it is, Lip for _once_ thinks, it would be better if he went with his heart. Because it’s _Ian_. And Ian was always the kid who wore his heart on his sleeve, for everyone else to see his inside. Until his diagnosis and Sammi shattered everything.

“So what? I travel to Mexico, find him at this address, tell him I love him and stay until we both die happy?“  
  
“That's pretty much the plan, yeah.“  
  
Ian snorted, “That's ridiculous. He won't take me back. _I_ wouldn't take me back. Not after all I did.“  
  
“Probably,“ Lip declared, his stare serious in his brother's frustrated eyes, that reflected how much he fucked up, “but you'll never know if you don't try.“  
  
Ian swallowed hard, his coffee cold and long forgotten infront of him. Lip couldn't tell if he had moved, since he gave him this piece of paper, if not for his fingers, that clung onto it like it's the last string of hope he'll ever get.  
  
“He's a Milkovich,“ Lip adds, “he probably doesn't even have enough brain cells to remember.“  
  
And with that, he finally managed to loom a smile from his baby brother. Because no matter how old they are, Ian will always remain exactly that. His little baby brother, for whom he'd do everything to keep him safe and make him happy.  
  
Even if it means locating the specific L train with Ian’s lost bear in it as a seven year old kid, travelling there alone in the night, to get his crying brother his beloved stuffed animal back. And that also means carrying his brother‘s pale ass to the threshold of this address, to get him another lost and beloved thing back, if he has to.

“And you’re sure Mickey lives here?“ Ian asked with an amused smirk on his lips, because the thought of Mickey alone, somehow makes this smitten dork grin every time. “This place is called _Playa del Amor_ and I’m pretty sure that would be the first knock-off criterion for him.“

“Nah man,“ Lip grabbed Ian’s untouched toast and took a bite, “I’ve googled it. It’s a nude gay beach. Dicks wherever you look. Seems he has a lot to catch up on after years in the closet, huh?“ he smirked, reaching for the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup. “Besides, I have very reliable sources.“ He turns back around to see Ian’s smile faltering. He had forgotten that the mention of other men‘s dicks _plus_ Mickey Milkovich is a combination that brings Ian’s blood to boil. So he had to save the situation quickly.

“Time to make your dick the only one he’s seeing then.“  
  
  
  
So here they are. After two more weeks of preparation, in which Ian got the new prescriptions for his meds and an address from his psychatrist of where to go for his monthly appointments. They also got a letter of recommendation from Rita for a job as an EMT, because somehow even after all the redhead did and even though he's gay as fuck, Ian still managed to captivate these women's hearts. After two days of travelling in a sticky, lousy, fucked up bus, they got here. At 8:43pm on a Saturday night.  
  
Lip with him, because he promised Fiona that he'll at least get their brother there safe. Since he already thought it was a good idea to kick him out and drive him into the arms of a wanted ex-convict.  
  
They took a taxi from the bus terminal to the address on the rumpled piece of paper, where they‘re now are standing on the threshold of a not so shitty looking house, close to the beach.

“Fuck me, if Mickey Milkovich lives in there!“ Lip points with his mouth gaped open to the entrance of the white coloured bungalow, decorated with red bricks and wooden elements. It’s not huge, but it’s definitely not small. They can even catch a glimpse of the colorful garden full of flowers, shubs and hedges, that lays behind the corner of the building.

“Sorry man, not so into inbreeding.“

Lip jabs his elbow into Ian’s chest, snorting amused over the dumb comment. Because somehow in the last two weeks, his brother managed to get his sense of humor back. A factor that Lip has missed so much about him. In the past fourteen days, Ian was so full of hope and dreams. He was giddy and dorky and the old smartass, he has been _before_. Before the diagnosis and before Sammi. Or in other words: in times when he was with Mickey. He was happier than Lip has seen him for the past three years, and this has to mean something.

“Okay so I guess I should wait here and you go and get your man, right?“ Lip says, eyebrows twitching to the closed door.

He can see Ian’s breaths coming shallow and ragged out of his mouth, his hands trembling and his knees wobbling. “Yeah, guess so.“ he agrees and takes a step towards the house.

Although Ian has practiced his speech all fourteen days long to the suffering of his housemates and Lip can tell that Ian knows the eight DIN A4 pages by heart now, he realizes that somehow his brother has no idea what to say or where to start. He just stands there, infront of the closed entrance, waiting for Mickey to miraculously materialize himself before him.

“ _Ian,_ “

“Huh?“ the redhead turns around.

“Ring the bell.“ he encourages him.

One short nod and Ian does as he is told. Lip behind him can hear some shuffling in the room, before it opens and they stare into an empty vestibule.

“What do you want?“ a high, but still powerful boy's voice sounds from under their bellies and they look down to find Yevgeny staring with icy blue eyes back at him. Both Ian and Lip, dare not to speak and just peer at him silently, wondering if the boy has already forgotten the neighbors of his old home town.

“Yev, Я сказал тебе не открывать дверь в одиночестве, а ждать, пока я с тобой –“ They hear a voice full of Russian temperament getting closer before it‘s being switched into an almost English curse. “What the –“

Suddenly Svetlana stands infront of them, looking as if she has seen a ghost. For a few seconds, Lip is stunned that there is actually something in this world that makes this woman shut up. 4.2 seconds is still something and definitely holds the record.

“What do you want?“ her tone is ice cold, her eyes flickering between the brothers.

Lip glances to Ian, finding it would be his part to take over now. But Ian is still occupied staring at Mickey’s mini-double, who has meanwhile hidden himself behind the legs of his Russian mother.

So he helps out. “We _uh.._ We’re looking for Mickey.“

“He’s not here.“

Lip himself perplexed about the situation because out of all the scenarios they had gone through the last two weeks, finding Svetlana and Yevgeny at this adress as well was never a realistic option, still digs deeper, “But he lives here, right?“

Ian finally raises his eyes to the cold woman infront of them, who decides not to answer.

“Can we come in and wait for him?“ Lip asks, since Ian still hasn’t found his voice.

“No.“

“What do they want from daddy, mummy?“ Yevgeny asks, and Ian’s eyes are back on the little man, tears almost brimming over.

“Это старые друзья твоего отца, не волнуйся.“ Svetlana answers her son, eyes fixed on Lip throughout, since his mute brother seems to be useless in this situation.

Lip rolls his eyes, huffing in annoyance. “Fine. Can you at least tell us, where we can find him?“

“No.“

Lip feels the beginning of a migrane forming in his head and rubs his forehead in frustration. That’s when Ian finally decides to speak.

“ _Svet.“_

It’s not more than a shallow breath, but the woman infront of them starts shifting, her chest widens and Lip can see her getting ready for an emotional outburst, only because Ian said her name like that.

But instead of the yelling Lip was sure is about to come, she takes a deep breath before a malicious smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “You want to see him?“ She stares Ian directly in the eyes.

“Yeah.“

“Fine. He’s at a bar. Tequila Sundown, Plaza Marlin, Blvd, Cabo San Lucas.“

Lip can see Ian exhaling a breath of relief, as if he wouldn’t have thought this is going to be this easy. “Thanks.“ the redhead is barely able to mutter, before the ex-whore slams the door shut, leaving Lip with a bitter smack in his mouth. He didn’t like the content smile on her lips when she gave them the address. He didn’t like it _at all._

 

 

A 25 minutes taxi drive and a 25 minutes encouraging speech from Lip later, they arrive at said address. The older brother doesn‘t know if he's disappointed or just surprised that they were actually taken to that bar with the address Svetlana has given them and not to an ambush in which they are skinned by her allies.

Since the last attempt to find and talk to Mickey or his ex wife had miserably failed, Lip decides to not let Ian go in there by himself alone. He joins him. Or more precisely, shoves him through the door.

The bar is huge, pretty crowded and loud. As the streets outside were also full of young people moving happily from bar to bar, Lip assumes that this must be a hip, thriving neighborhood. A place were people go to be happy and have a good time. He somehow starts doubting this is a place Mickey Milkovich would be.

They look cautiously left and right, before stepping closer to the bar. Behind and beside the counter, which is also huge by the way, are more rooms filled with random tables, billiard tables, dartboards and other activity stuff. Lip can see Ian’s eyes scanning the room nervously, his body moving hesitantly to the wall on his right, where the next room is attached. Lip is close to his heels, when his brother stops abruptly and he bumps into the tense muscles of his back.

The blond immediately steps aside, since he’s long given up on trying to look over his much taller brother’s shoulders, and instantly finds the reason for Ian’s freezing.

There, on a table in the corner of the room, is Mickey. Looking the same as ever, with his short jet black hair, his piercing blue eyes, maybe a bit more tan on his usually pale skin, and his small but well-toned body. He’s sitting beside another dude with broad shoulders, tattoos on his trained arms, brown curly hair and _giggling_ about something his companion said. If Lip wouldn’t know better that this is something that lays beyond the horizon of a Milkovich, he’d say Mickey looks happy.  Which is probably the reason that the stature beside him seems to neither be breathing nor moving. Lip recognizes his big glassy eyes from aside, in which shades of relief and love are displayed. But the moment the man who’s with Mickey, reaches across the table and lays his hand above Mickey‘s, there’s another emotion flickering over his brother’s face. _Hurt._

Within two seconds, he gets the same look back on his face that had driven Lip to come here firsthand.

Mickey doesn’t see them since they are both standing behind a wall, only peering around the corner like some creeps. When Lip makes his first step to appear from behind, wanting Mickey to see them and change the look on Ian’s face, he’s immediately tugged back by his brother.

“Don’t.“ Ian tells him, his eyes still locked on Mickey and the other man.

“ _Ian-_ “

“No, Lip. Don’t.“ is all his brother’s broken voice is able to say.

They remain in place for a few more seconds. Lip staring at Ian, who seems to savour the sight infront of him. The sight of a _happy Mickey._ Somehow, even through all the hurt and without Mickey even knowing it, the black haired man manages to raise a soft smile out of Ian. A smile, that is followed by a single tear running down his freckled cheek. Ian’s adams apple bobs hard up and down, as he gathers all his power to stay strong. Then, the redhead nods, turns around and leaves the bar.

Lip’s eyes dart desperately between where Mickey is sitting, to the entrance, where Ian just went out and decides to go after his brother. _Fuck._

“Don’t you think the guy at least deserves to know how you fucking feel?“ Lip asks, the moment he steps outside into the fresh, but still hot air.

“No.“ Suddenly his voice is back to full strength, as Ian turns around and faces him with a broken, yet determined look. “What this man deserves is happiness, Lip. And I could never give him that. Even though he once told me he’s free with me, he wasn’t. But he is now. And I won’t take this from him.“

So in the middle of fucking no where in Mexico, Ian Clayton Gallagher somehow manages to make Lip Gallagher speechless. He‘s once again putting someone he loves before himself, claiming that if you truly _love_ someone, you have to let them go.

And this is when Lip understands. He may know a lot, because he’s smart and he’s the one from College. But apparently he knows _nothing_ about love and feelings. Because Lip wouldn’t and couldn’t let go. If he ever looks at someone, the way Ian looked at Mickey just moments ago, he would hold onto this person for the rest of his life.

What Lip certainly knows though, is what a broken heart looks like. He can see it in the face of his little brother. And so he makes a decision. Even if he has to enter a pact with the devil.

Mickey may not be Lip’s best friend, but his brother definitely is. And he finally deserves happiness, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh... *sorry*
> 
> Second chapter is on its way! *mwah*
> 
> Your feedback is highly appreciated <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a little longer than expected, but my internet didn't work on my vacation in Croatia.
> 
> Enjoy part two and leave kudos and comments as a feedback. Thank you!
> 
> Ps.: Thanks to Mrs_Monaghan for being my beta!

He shouldn’t have come. He knew it was a bad fucking idea, the moment Lip gave him the address. Mickey’s _fucking_ address. But he somehow couldn’t resist the temptation to feel alive again. Because that’s what he always feels near Mickey – _alive_.

He couldn’t resist the urge to try one last time. To give everything and turn the rudders in his life around. To live happily with Mickey by his side, instead of the odd life he always thought would be the highlight of a kid raised in the Southside. But how could he? In retrospect, that was probably a very selfish and arrogant thought. After all, how could Mickey ever forgive him after Ian left him right at the border only to return to his boring life with Trevor? How could he not hate Ian his whole life, for breaking his heart once again? This time probably in the most brutal way.

Mickey did everything he could to give them a future. To find a way out of life that had fucked with them since the beginning of their relationship. It was _their_ chance. They could have been happy. But then...

But then, Ian's fucked up brain thought that he couldn‘t live like that. That, as a man with mental illness, he can‘t be on the run with an ex-convict. Not even if it‘s the love of his life. How many times had Monica thought she had found the love of her life and ran away with this person, leaving her family behind?

No. Ian didn’t want to be like her. He wanted to be better. To prove to everyone that a bipolar person from the Southside doesn‘t necessarily mean you have no chance in life and only end up dead from an overdose of heroin. Instead he tried to show everyone that _he’s_ different and _his life_ will be different. Because he had everything: a job, a family, a routine, a roof over his head, a boyfriend.

But instead of feeling full, he felt empty. Instead of seeing what he has, he only felt a cleft that couldn’t be refilled, reminding him every painful day, what he didn‘t have: _love_.

He missed Mickey. So, so much. And though they say, time heals all wounds, the realization became more brutal with each passing day: He lost him. And this time probably for good. So he tried to compensate this loss. Day after day.

What others saw as a "manic" phase was his desperate attempt to push himself to the limits. To _feel_ himself. To feel _something_.

The thrill had always reminded him of Mickey. Because that was life with him. Exciting, pulsating, breathtaking. It was full of life and love. And if he couldn’t have the original, he at least tried to get as close to the feeling as possible.

But he failed. The only thing he got was a jail sentence, several social services, a shocked family and a suspension from his job. Life and love stayed away. In Mexico, to be more precise.

So yeah, of course Ian tried when he saw the opportunity to make a change. To turn his life around, for the better this time. Even if Fiona, or others would think his life in Southside is the better life, Ian now knows for sure that it’s not.

And he was super surprised when he found out that even his brother Lip thought the same.

 _Lip_ , who’s now nagging him to turn around, go back into the bar and confess, that he‘s still in love with him. Always was and always will be.

But he _can’t_. He didn’t know what he thought he’d find here in Mexico. But he definitely didn’t think that he’d find a happy Mickey, living with Svetlana and Yevgeny in a beach house in Mexico, holding hands with his boyfriend or lover or what-the-fuck-ever when he’s out in public. Because this is the life Ian always wanted for _them_. That was his vision of living happily. With Mick, Svet and Yev, as a family. And now Mickey has it. With some other built fucking dude.

On the one hand, Ian is happy for him. He really is. That’s exactly what Mickey deserves. A break from the rough and hard life he‘s had in Southside. Besides, it's the proof that Ian truly loves him above all else. Although he hasn‘t been able to show it often, he now is purified and he‘d put Mickey’s well-being over his own _every god damn time_. Mickey will forever remain the most important person in his life. And that's why on the other hand, it‘s so hard to let him go. It breaks his heart, it shatters him to the core in a million of pieces, which he’ll never be able to pick up again. Not, without this man by his side.

He may not ever be healed, but this time, he did it right. _For Mickey_.

Ian is glad when Lip gets back from pissing in the next lonesome alley without getting stabbed or robbed and they can finally leave this place. Leave the Tequila Sundown‘ bar, leave Mexico, leave this painful memory. Leave Mickey.

“And you’re sure you don’t wanna-“

“ _Lip_. It’s okay.“ It’s _not_. And he knows Lip can see it as well. “He’s happy. That’s good. That’s all I ever wanted for him. I’d only set a match to it.“

Lip’s blue eyes bore into his own, his look unsure of what to do. Ian knows he’s struggling. He’s fully back in big brother-protective-mode, wanting to make everything good for Ian. Wanting to make the right decisions for him, to prevent him from all the bad. But this time he can’t. Ian has already made his decision, intent on taking all the cruel consequences that are coming along with it. And Lip can’t help it; can’t help _him_. He only nods hesitantly. “Yeah, okay.“ he surrenders. “So.. back to the bus terminal then?“

He won’t lie. To hear Lip saying that hurts. It sounds so final. So irrevocable. As if his fate is set in stone. He bites hard down his lip to keep his tears from falling and to hold back the whimpers that are desperate to escape. “Yeah.“ he breathes.

 

 

They take a taxi and leave it all behind. The beach house, the bar, Svet, Yev and Mickey. Ian wants nothing more than to hop back into his old pattern of blocking out the painful as quickly as possible. This has worked best for him so far.

But to have a brother at your side, who won’t shut the fuck up, bombarding you with questions and subliminal messages, is not very helpful, when all you wanna do is forget. “And now? Back to work as an EMT? Back to the Gallagher household? Back to.. _Trevor_?“

Ian lays his face in his palms, sighing heavily and letting his eyes wet the inside of his hands, while the taxi driver puts more and more distance between him and what he thought could be his new life. “No. Not Trevor.“ he grumbles, already sick of hearing and saying his name. The thing they had is long over and long forgotten, if you ask Ian. He hadn’t contacted him, after he got out of jail and neither did Trevor. They did not work. _Ian_ doesn’t work with anybody else but…

“So a new boyfriend then?“ Lip digs deeper. _Fucking Lip!_

He lets his hands slide down his cheeks and turns to face his brother with red-rimmed eyes. “Really, Lip?“ He gives him a look full of disbelief, indicating that it _may be_ a little too early to talk about a new boyfriend or a new life.

Lip shrugs. “I’m just curious, since it looks as if you‘ve already made new plans. You for sure made plans for _him_ without even asking, if he’d agree to them. Have you also made one for yourself? I’m just wondering.“

“Fuck off.“

“No I won’t fuck off, Ian. You decided to let him be _happy_ , what you, by the way, just assumed without really knowing anything. But at the same time and with that decision you digged your own grave.“

“Now you’re being a little dramatic.“ Ian huffs, even though it definitely feels like that.

“Yeah, 48 hours with your ass and I’m already using gay-language.“ Lip throws back. “But what the fuck ever, Ian. There’s no plan B. You only had _this_ plan. The Mickey-plan. And now you’re going to throw it away, because of what? You saw him smiling for five fucking seconds?“

“Shut the fuck up, Lip.“ Ian cuts him off, wanting to just end this pointless conversation. “You don’t get it.“ he defends himself, since any other logic explanation has already slipped through his fingers, “You never get it.“

Lip is silent for a moment, huffing a desperate laugh. “Fine. But don’t think I’ll watch this misery any longer. I can’t do this anymore.“

“No one asked you to.“

“No Ian, no one did. It’s the decision _I_ made. You made yours, I made mine. Live with it.“

It sounds so cryptical, that the redhead somehow wants to know what’s behind those words. But he’s exhausted and tired and broken, and he’s sick of talking. He just wants to forget. That’s why he falls deeper in his seat and stares out of the window. Hoping that Lip can’t see the strains of tears that are streaming down his face.

 

 

“Think you can go back as an EMT?“

“ _Lip_ ,“ Ian sighs, his hoodie pulled deep down his face, to hide his swollen face. “Can we please talk tomorrow about it?“ He only wants to sit there in peace, waiting for the bus that should come within the next 20 minutes. Then he hopes sleep will take over him, before he has to step out back in Chicago. His brain is currently unable to make coherent decisions. It‘s still too busy processing the shock and the loss from hours before.

He can see Lip nodding in the corner of his eyes, before he takes the last gulp of his coffee. He throws the paper cup in the garbage a few feet away from them, scoring unerring, without moving an inch from his sitting position, next to the redhead. Ian takes out his Ipod and puts the earplugs in, wanting to shut off the still spinning world around him.

His world, however, stopped spinning tonight and he needs something that adapts to his now own tact. He bends forward, his elbows on his knees, his Ipod in his hands and scrolls through his playlist. There’s only one song he wants to hear right now. One song that understands the way he’s feeling right now. Lip’s already quiet for two minutes, so that counts as a win, right?

In the corner of his eyes he can see his brother nodding, before leaning in close to Ian. “Hey, uhm.. I‘m going to get another coffee. Be right back.“

Ian nods slightly, more to himself than to Lip, before he presses the Play button and “Amnesia“ from Five Seconds of Summer sounds through the plugs. He lays the Ipod aside, his elbows still on his knees, his head hanging low and his face hidden in his palms.

He feels the water behind his eyes beginning to swell again, as he listens to the refrain.

_“…I wish that I could wake up with Amnesia._

_A_ _nd forget about the stupid little things._

_Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you_

_And the memories I never can escape._

_Cause I’m not fine at a-“_

Just as his sobs threaten to escape, since the wounds are too freshly made for lyrics like that, his right earplug is yanked out. “ _WHAT_?“ he grumbles, squinting his eyes more firmly and taking a deep breath in preparation for his brother's next agonizing questions, he doesn’t want to come.

Except, it’s not his brother who’s speaking.

“That was a gay fucking move, Gallagher!“

Everything freezes.

His heartbeat stops, his breath sticks in his throat. Goosebumps spread all over his body, making his hair stand on end. And all within 0,2 seconds.

Startled by the voice, he looks up, staring into the purest blue he has ever seen.

“Making it all the way across the boarder to find me, only to bitch out last minute, when you see another guy holding my hand.“

“ _Wha_ -?“

“Thought you had balls, man.“ Mickey chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

Ian swallows hard, his eyes drawn to the man infront of him. “How do you-? Why are you-?“ he stammers, not able to process what’s going on.

“The first time your smartass brother proved why he’s the one in College.“ Mickey states, leaning back into the uncomfortable steel seat beside Ian and staring straight ahead to the space where the bus should stop any minute.

“Lip?“ he asks shallowly, scanning Mickey’s beautiful profile.

The black haired man frowns. “I swear to god, Ian, if you fucking tell me that Carl made it to College, I might bust a nut right here and now.“

The giggle that escapes Ian is so honest, so pure, so _free_. His chest feels lighter by a ton than a few moments before. Just seeing him, has such a calming effect. “How did he-?“

“Called the bar right after you left I guess and asked for me.“ Mickey shrugs, giving Lip an acknowledging nod in the distance, before turning dead serious to Ian again. “Although, thinking about it, that wasn’t even a clever move. Could’ve done better.“

“Fuck.“ Ian sighs, his eyes also wandering to his brother, giving him a short, soft smile, that probably says more than Ian could come up with right now.

Then there’s silence. Ian lets his head hang low again and Mickey seems to observe him. Wanting for him to make a fucking move. But can he? Can he tell Mickey now that he‘s still head over heels in love with him and probably put the fresh happiness he got with the other man from before at risk? Could he?

 _Fuck it,_ he can! One last time.

“Mick, I-“

“I know.“

“You know?“

“Yeah.“

“Lip?“ Ian creases his forehead in confusion, wondering if Lip had already told him the quintessence of his eight DIN A4 pages in the two minutes he was pissing in the lonesome alley.

“Yep.“ the blue eyed man confirms, his face so soft and pitful when he locks eyes with Ian. That’s when the redhead realizes he probably looks like shit. All swollen and red from all the tears that slipped down his face. “Said some shit about true love, happiness and other pretty gay crap.“

Ian chuckles, because it feels _so good_ to hear Mickey speaking the way he always did. You can take a guy from Southside, but you can’t take Southside out of the guy. “I didn’t come here for my brother to do all the talking for me.“

That’s when Mickey’s expression changes into a more serious one. “Nah, you came here to watch me for three fucking seconds, thinking you know shit about my life and making all the decisions for me. For _us_.“

The young man sighs. “You looked happy.“ he says, his pupils locked with Mickey‘s, whose are flickering insecurely over his face, showing that this is not a punch in the guts for Ian alone.

“Maybe you caught me laughing about him liking Segal.“

Ian raises his brows. “But you like Segal too?“

“Yeah,“ Mickey agrees, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, before the pink, thick lip plops back out, “but all of a sudden I wished for someone who makes a lame fucking joke about Van double Damm.“

Ian huffs a laugh, when the bus comes into a stop right infront of them, raising so many unanswered questions. But all that Ian can feel at the moment is _hope_. “I never stopped loving you, Mick. Not a single minute. Not even for a second.“

He scans the face of the handsome man infront of him for signs. Could he continue to hope? Or is it all shattered away? Seems more of the latter, since all he can see is pain.

“Acted pretty different, though.“ The black haired man averts his eyes, looking down on the floor between their feet and biting hard on his lips. Ian sees his adam’s apple bobbing up and down from swallowing hard.

“Yeah,“ he admits, his voice understanding, since it’s nothing but the fucking truth. But he’ll fight. Lip has messed with his decision to let Mickey have a life here in peace anyways. _Thank fucking god._ So it’s his turn to make the best out of it. “and now brace yourself for the next gay shit that is about to come, Mick. But if I could turn back time, I would change it all.“ Ian says and Mickey rolls his eyes only half heartedly, before the redhead continues, “I would’ve visited you in jail, would’ve waited all eight fucking years. Or maybe, if you would’ve still escaped prison because you’re a bitch for my dick and couldn’t wait that long, I would’ve followed you over the border.“

Mickey’s teeth are digging deep into his lips, and Ian thinks he can see a bit of blood. The pain on his lips covering the pain in his heart that couldn’t be healed even over years. So Ian tries his best to clean Mickey’s wounds. “During all that time Mick, I let my head lead the way. I felt so dead. So _fucking_ dead. I’ve wasted years, because I was a fool, thinking that if I let my head make the decisions, everything would be alright. That I wouldn’t be like _her_ , you know.“ He doesn’t have to say her name. Mickey knows. Mickey always knows. “But god, was I wrong. I made all the wrong decisions, because turns out, my head is a mess and I should stick to my heart.“

The blue eyed man finally looks at him again, when Ian adds in no more than a whisper, “And my heart always leads to you, Mick. _Always_.“

Ian can seen Mickey struggling for words. He opens his mouth, but closes it again, as nothing comes out. Mickey shakes his head, a sigh falling over his lips, as he lowers his head again. Ian wants to reach across the seat, cup his face in his palms and kiss him. Tell him, that everything will be fine. Tell him, that he won’t leave him again, that he won’t hurt him anymore. But it‘s not his decision to make.

_“Last call for the bus to Chicago, 4528. Passengers are kindly requested to get on the bus. It will leave shortly.“_

The woman's voice coming from the speakers tears them out of this heavy moment. Ian’s eyes dart to Lip, who looks at him questioningly, then to the bus and back to Mickey. The black haired man now himself stares at the bus, pursing his lips, as if he’s weighing his options.

“Will you stay?“ he asks, not daring to look at Ian. He sounds so broken and unsure, and Ian feels a wave of guilt overcome him, that he made Mickey doubt his love.

His fingers are twitching and he can’t restrain himself anymore from not touching his porcelain skin. His gently lays his palm across Mickey’s cheek, feeling the warmth spreading through his hand and speeding up his own gallopping heartbeat. Ian can see Mickey closing his watery eyes, before he lays the weight of his face in Ian’s hands, somehow symbolizing, that even if Ian fucked it up multiple times, he still trusts him. And this is the biggest proof of love Ian has ever received.

His second hand reaches out and cups his face, bringing it closer to his own. He nudges Mickey’s nose, forcing him to open his eyes and lock his gaze. When blue melts into green and Mickey’s lips part, Ian sighs into his mouth “ _Forever_ ,“ before he closes the distance and connects them in a way that takes the redhead’s breath away.

In an instant their lips are recognizing each other, falling into the same dance they ever did. Ian sucks on Mickey’s bottom lip, before the blue eyed man opens up and starts licking into Ian. The taste he loves so much hasn’t even changed in years and it still makes Ian weak. He’s glad they’re sitting right now, because he wouldn’t be able to keep his balance. All his senses are drawn to this man. To _Mickey_ and he feels him pressing closer, intensifying the hunger and passion with force. Ian is overwhelmed from all that’s happening, that he can’t help the tent he’s slowly building in his pants. He stops abruptly to catch his breath and once again stares at Mickey with only one question on his mind. Is he allowed to stay?

Mickey leans forward again, finding his lips in another short peck, that Ian tries to savour desperately. When Mickey detaches himself this time, a soft smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and he gets up.

Somehow they always managed to understand each other without words, so it doesn’t baffle Ian when Mickey answers the none vocalized question, “Come on, Gallagher, lets go.“

Ian’s eyes widen, happiness overcoming his body. He had thought he lost him at the boarder last year. But now he gets another chance. A chance he won't fuck up. _Never again_. He hurries out of the seat, picking up his stuff and falls in step with Mickey, who’s making his way over to Lip.

“You also coming, College boy?“

Lip’s eyes dart from Mickey to Ian and back, unsure if there’s a right answer to this question. “Uhm.. yeah. Sure. If you have enough space? I’m not sleeping in the same room with you two, again. Made the mistake obviously too often since horrible images are branded into my mind, haunting me in my darkest nightmares.“

Now the both of them are rolling their eyes at him, as they make their way towards an old black Pickup Truck, with a child’s seat in the back row.

“Then the couch will do for you, since you’re not getting Mandy’s room.“

“ _Mandy_?“ Ian asks dumbfounded, “Mandy’s here? You’re still in contact?“

Mickey nods, as he opens the car and the three of them get in. Lip in the back. “Yeah. Lives here. But right now she’s away for two weeks, visiting her boyfriend in LA.“

Ian is silent, stunned about the fact that some of the people he loves the most are all gathered in one place. He hopes he is allowed to call this place his home, sometime.

“Hey,“ Lip bends forward to get their attention, “did you never wonder where I got Mickey's address from?“

Mickey’s and Ian’s heads both snap back, their foreheads knitted in incredulity. “ _Mandy_?“ they both ask flabbergasted, before Ian adds, “That’s your misterious source? I’m somehow deeply disappointed in you, Lip.“

“Yeah? That all you‘ve got College boy? Not 'I know someone who knows the friend of the brother, who Mickey used to deal to in high school and whose sister is now the neighbor of the prison chick, that Mickey pulled it out for sometimes and later dragged into the break out plan?' “

Ian’s eyes grow wide again. “Seriously, Mick. We have to talk about the chick in prison some time.“ He definitely doesn’t like the fact that Mickey banged a woman who fell for him. But that’s probably a topic for later conversations.

Mickey rolls his eyes with a laugh and knits his brows. “You really wanna chit chat tonight, Gallagher? Or do you wanna get on me?“

There’s only the sound of lip smacking from the front seat and heavy gagging in the back seat coming from the car, before Mickey inserts the key in the ignition, starts the vehicle and drives off into a better future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first fic without sex - or anyone interested in a smutty epilogue?! ;)
> 
> I hope you liked it! You should definitely check out the song from the story. Here, it was Ian who heard it, but I think this song is written in Mick's POV :( Here's the link:
> 
> https://youtu.be/ByEE5jlGXtg 
> 
> Anyone interested in manking an edit to it?! ;)
> 
> xoxo


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys.. uhm.. yeah... it's me! I'm still alive o_O Sorry it took me so long to get this epilogue out, but... life happened :D Thanks for the ass kicking, though! It really helped finding my motivation again. So I hope you enjoy <3
> 
> A special thanks to @Nicrenkel for being my beta for this last chapter! *mwah*

“YEV! SVET! MANDS! Dinner is ready!“ Ian screams from the kitchen, voice carrying through their house, alerting them to get all their asses to the table. “The fuck is Mick?!“ he grumbles to himself, peering at the clock as he plates the pasta.  
  
In less then twenty seconds, Yev is standing beside him, getting the plates and putting them in the right places. “Should we serve the pasta for daddy as well?“  
  
Ian takes a deep breath, focusing on the fact that Mick's probably only late because he got a scrap car to the shop at the last minute and had to accept the job. It's not because he is shot, or arrested, or anything else that can happen in dangerous Mexico. It's _not.._.  
  
He tries to focus on his breathing, remembering that Mickey always teases him for being so angsty. But _hell,_ it's Mexico. It's not the safest place on earth. Not when you're a fugitive that used to work for a Mexican cartel before Ian came here and forced him to quit this shit, and back out before it's too late.  
  
“Uhm..“ he starts answering the question from the blue eyed boy, looking up at him with wide eyes full of hope that his father will have dinner with them. He holds his gaze as Svet and Mandy sit down around the table.  
  
“Home!“ The liberating words of his lover fill the air and the redhead lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “Sorry. Alfredo came to the shop last minute to give me the--“  
  
“DADDY! DADDY! Guess what? Ian made noodles, my favorite meal.“ Yev's shrill voice cuts his father off; his little hands clinging around the thick thighs Ian loves so much, making Mickey have to move monkey Yev on his thigh with him as he moves to the dinner table. Ian smirks at that, meeting him halfway and pressing a kiss to his partner's full lips. The brunet immediately reciprocates.  
  
“Hey babe,“ Ian mumbles against his lips before Mandy interrupts, annoyed. “Jesus, I thought we eat _dinner_ , not each other's faces.“  
  
Both Ian and Mickey roll their eyes, before Yev looks up at the redhead with a weird expression on his face. “You want to eat daddy's face? _Iiih_..“  
  
“Thanks Mands!“ Mick slaps her upside the head, taking his seat between Yev and Ian. “'M starvin'. Thanks, babe.“   
  
Ian's face explodes into a grin, proud of himself that he‘s able to provide his family dinner. Not only is he able to put money in their common fund with his work as an EMT, but he also has duties and responsibilities in this family already. _His_ family.  
  
He quickly pecks his lover on the lips, before they all start eating like an ordinary family. Forgotten, for a tiny moment, that one of them is a fugitive, one is mentally ill, one an ex hooker, one a prior escort, and one the result of abuse.   
  
Here and now, they are a functioning family that finally found happiness in their new created life. It's finally _Ian and Mickey. Mickey and Ian_. Plus their relatives, that sometimes get closer to each other than _someone_ would like them to see.  
  
“Just giving you a heads up that Lip is coming for a visit this weekend.“ Mandy says with her mouth full of spaghetti.   
  
While Yev is cheering in excitement, “Yess, uncle Lip!“ and Ian raises his brows, Mickey scoffs, “Again?“  
  
The blonde woman just rolls her eyes. “Yes, _again_. Forgive him for wanting to see his brother, asswipe!“  
  
“Cussing box!“ Yev indicates.  
  
A chuckle escapes the redhead's lips, while he shoves another fork full of noodles in his mouth. The brunet just shakes his head in disbelief. “Yeah, that's why Mr. Clueless here knows so much about it,“ he nods at Ian, “Because he wants to see his _brother_.“  
  
Mandy jeers. “Yeah, because unlike you, Ian didn't bring his whole family here. So excuse his brother for visiting him every once in a while.“  
  
Ian sees his man's eyebrows reaching the maximum. “Every once in awhile?“ He turns to the redhead, scanning his face for a reaction to this. “ _Every once in a while?_ You hear this?“ He then faces Mandy again, huffing a sarcastic laugh. “He could've talked to him two weeks ago when he was here, but Mr. College boy was too busy fucking your last remaining brain cells out of your mind.“  
  
“Cussing box!“ The blonde boy points out once again, extending his hand for the money. Damn, if they really put a dollar in there every time they cuss in front of this little guy, Yev's college fund is going to be secured real quick.  
  
“Mishka!“ Svet cuts him off, shooting a warning glare in Yev's direction.  
  
“Oh come on, don't Mishka me and don't play Mrs. innocent over here. You think that just because you cuss in Russian in front of Yev no one would notice, but we do. You get this crazy look in your eyes.“ He waves his hand in front of his face to underline the meaning of his words. Svetlana sinks deeper into her seat when Yev begins to giggle, nodding his head in agreement with the adults.  
  
After a short pause, in which she seems to ponder about her protest, she simply rolls her eyes at them. “трахаться!“  
  
“Cussing box!“ Yev yelps, amused with his role models. Mickey only raises one brow as proof at his ex wife.  
  
“Well, I'm looking forward to seeing him.“ Ian finally throws in, happy that he was able to combine his old life with his new. Fiona had visited him one time in the past three months, and Lip, as pointed out, also had major interests to come and see _him_ “ _every once in a while_.“ With his younger siblings, he stays caught with them by speaking on Skype, which is also quite regularly.  
  
“Whatever,“ the brunet resigns. “Just tell douchebag that this time I'll come after him if he breaks your heart again.“  
  
Ian swallows down his bite, before laying a reassuring hand on his lover's thigh. “Don't worry babe, I'll kill him myself if that ever happens again.“   
  
“Yeah, and I'll be glad to help,“ Mandy agrees. “But don't forget it was _him_ , who brought your fiancé's ass back here.“  
  
A short silence falls over the room. Ian feels the pasta stuck in his throat and a sting in his heart. It's too painful to think back to the days without Mickey. He's too ashamed that he felt helpless and not able to find his own way back to the love of his life. He didn't know where to start looking, didn't know if it was his _right_ to go searching for him. So he's more than just glad Lip kicked his ass and convinced Mandy to tell him where he lives.   
  
But even though he needed Lip's help to find back to Mickey a few months ago, he's sure of one thing: “I would've found you on my own. You know that.“ He sets his fork aside to stare into his man's beautiful blue eyes. “Maybe not that quick. Maybe I would've needed more time to get my shit together and get over my fear that you wouldn't want me here. But in the end, I would've come. I would've been here, anyways. Cause this is how it's supposed to be, Mick.“ He can see Mickey struggling with his emotions, quickly shoving the noodles inside his mouth. “You and me. Together. Always. You know this.“  
  
Everyone is quiet in the room. Mandy shifts uncomfortably in her seat, realizing only now that this may still be a sore spot in her brother's heart. But then the brunet surprises them all by shrugging nonchalantly and speaking with his mouth full. “Yeah, and if not, _I_ would've come after your ass. I already had plans to roll on the cartel I was working for, before you came and forced me to quit. Would've made a deal to get back in for two more years and then be a free man in Chicago.“  
  
The reactions splay differently across each face: Yev, who looks at Mickey confused, not understanding what 'get back in' really means; Svetlana is pissed, that this was really an option to the father of her son; Mandy is surprised, that her brother is such a sneaky motherfucker; and Ian is overwhelmed, eyes brimming full of tears, that Mickey would've done this for him. What a proof of love! ( _Again_.)  
  
Before anyone can add something to this, Yev cuts through the heavy silence. “Hey Ian, can you again help me with my homework after dinner?“  
  
The redhead's heart swells even more. “Sure, little man.“ He ruffles his blonde hair. “What are you up to?“  
  
Yev opens his mouth but is interrupted by his dad. “I can do the homework with you, too, Yev. After all, my Spanish is better than the redhead's there.“ He nods in Ian's direction, overplaying the hurt that Yev chose Ian over him, again, with a small smile. Ian only rolls his eyes at that. Sure, Yev allows him to do the homework with him, but when they are about to fool around, Yev always goes for his dad.   
  
The blonde boy shoves another fork full of pasta down his throat, answering Mickey while chewing. “That may be true, Dad, but at least Ian doesn't ask me the whole time 'what the fuck I need this later in my life for'.“ Mandy and Ian both start giggling at the very realistic imitation Yev has of his father, while Svet shoots the brunet another death glare. “And then I have to fix anything that is broken with you, so that I 'learn something real for life.'“ Yev again speaks the last half of the sentence with his grim Mickey-voice, before looking innocently with his big blue eyes into his dad's. “But I wanna watch 'PAW Patrol' today, Daddy. _Please_. Don't make me repair something today.“  
  
Even Mickey has to hide his grin at Yev's desperate attempt to shirk his duties. Instead he raises his brows and turns his head to Ian. “Whatever. Look what I got from Alfredo today.“ He fiddles with his right hand in his pocket before throwing a small plastic card on the table in front of Ian's plate.  
  
“Is this--?“ The redhead's eyes widen and he immediately drops his fork and pushes the plate away. His hands reach for the card, observing it from top to bottom.  
  
Mick nods proudly. “It is, Mr. Rodríguez.“  
  
Yev giggles. Ian takes a closer look at the name beside his picture. _Ian Rodríguez_. That's him, now. His new name, for his new life.

With the love of his life by his side.

The tears start swelling in his eyes as he thinks about the importance of this for them as a couple.  
  
“Okay, Softie, don't get all emotional on this. It's only a fake ID.“ Mickey reaches across the table to snap the ID out of his hands again. “First, you look ridiculous in this pic--“  
  
“Ridiculously good“ Ian counters, raising one brow at him.  
  
Mickey only rolls his eyes at that dorky comment, “And second, don't get too used to this name. You’re gonna change it in two months, anyways.“  
  
That's when one single tear slips through his lashes, and he quickly rubs it away to not get teased more from Mickey. _Mickey García._

“We finally can get married, Mick!“ Ian breathes, letting the impact of the fake ID sink in. “Holy fuck! We'll get married, babe. We're gonna celebrate tonight!“  
  
Loud gagging from Svet's and Mandy's corner fills the air. “ _God no_! Not again!“ They burst out almost simultaneously, before Mandy adds, “You're already celebrating every fucking night. _Jesus_. Give us a rest.“   
  
“How can you still hold anything in your body at all? Must be completely worn out under there.“ Svet shakes her head in disbelief, encouraging a confused Yev to finish his dinner.  
  
Mickey wiggles his brows in response, proudly announcing that this is the result of years of training. It definitely isn't the answer the women were going for, shaking their bodies to rid their minds of the images.   
  
“Here,“ Ian reaches in his pockets and slides some money across the table. “Take Yev to the cinema tonight. He doesn't have school tomorrow anyway and we definitely need some... uhm.. _space_.“   
  
“YES! YES! YES! YEEEEEES! 'The Incredibles 2' is running. I wanna see this мама, PLEEEEEEASE!“ Yev screams full of joy, and Ian knows that he has already won this battle. Saying no to Yev, who's looking at his mummy and auntie with heart-filled eyes, is strictly not possible for them. He played the cards at the right time. _Clever Ian_ , he praises himself.  
  
Mickey bites his lip with a playful smirk on his face and locks Ian's gaze, already filling with excitement for the night. “Mhmm.. Ian Gallagher putting his big boy pants on. I like that.“  
  
“Fuck, fine!“ Mandy grumbles.  
  
“Cussing box!“ Yev interjects, before Mandy continues, “But keep the dirty talk for when we are watching a movie for three year olds about a whole family trapped in red condom costumes to save the world from a Darth Vader scrap.“  
  
“You already know this film, auntie?“ Yev asks, and everyone has to stifle their laughter. _Of course_ Mandy has already seen the film. It ran during fuck session number three with Lip the other night.

  
  
  
“ _Mhmm_.. you taste so good, Mick. Fucking love how you taste.“ Ian says before digging his tongue deeper inside his lover, his fingers helping him to loosen his fiancé underneath him.   
  
The black haired man is already trembling, pressing his face even further into the pillow beneath him while moaning Ian's name. “You're a fucking creep! _– aaaah –_ Who says this while eating another man's ass?“  
  
Ian smirks between his cheeks, pointing his tongue and poking further. His middle finger searches, aiming to find that sweet little spot. “ _Me_. Because you have the best fucking ass“ he pants between the licks in and out of his beloved hole. God, how he'd missed this man moving against him. Missed how eager he is to take all of Ian, aching against the bittersweet pain. No one would ever be able to please Ian like Mickey does, even if the blue eyed man does nothing but give him all the control to worship this beautiful body.   
  
“I'm good, c'mon!“ Mickey begs, pressing his ass closer to the redhead's face to get all of the pleasure out of Ian's work as he laps, kisses, and caresses the sensitive puckered hole. When his long fingers finally find the right bundle of nerves, Mickey yelps and shivers deeper into the sheets. But Ian goes down with him, not letting the pressure subside on his prostate. Massaging the spot while his tongue fucks him harder, he now has him right where he wants him. “ _Ian!_ Fu- Fuck!“  
  
The taller man grins mischievously, proud of his teasings. He likes how he can always turn the ex convict into his needy little bottom with just his tongue and hands. But when the moaning man starts rutting against the mattress, he knows he has to stop. His plan goes further than just the foreplay. Even though it's a pretty hot and sexy foreplay, his own rock hard dick already leaking against Mickey's strong thighs.  
  
“How do you want it, Mick?“ he pants, pulling his fingers out and hovering above his lover's body. Mickey whines at the loss, having a hard time answering. Ian starts kissing the spot behind his ear, whispering “Tell me, baby“ between his own gasps. His cock rubs between the cleft of Mickey's ass, sending a shiver down his spine.  
  
The older man opens his squinted eyes and locks their gaze, silently pleading. “Take the handcuffs and bend me over“ he states, his ass rubbing slow circles against Ian's groin, making it harder for him to follow his boyfriend's words. There's so much desperation behind the blue eyes, so much need to find some release, that it takes Ian's breath away. “Pound me hard“ Mickey adds. “Need to feel you.“  
  
There's no need to tell him twice. Ian reaches over and retrieves the handcuffs from the nightstand drawer. He takes Mickey's hands and crosses them behind his back, cuffing him so that he wouldn't be able to get out, no matter how much he tries. And god, Mick is going to try. Ian will make it his mission to get him to beg to be touched. “Gonna make you feel it,“ he promises.  
  
He pulls Mickey's hips upwards, so that his ass is presented in front of him like a fucking christmas present, while he pushes his upper body and face down into the pillows. Mickey wants to get bent over, so that's exactly what he’s going to get.  
  
The redhead pours some lube onto the juncture of Mickey's back and ass, letting the cool gel run down his rim. It makes the smaller man shiver from anticipation.   
  
With one hand he tightly grips onto his lover's hips, stroking his skin there in soothing circles, while his other hand guides the already messy head of his cock up and down his crack, increasing the pressure on his entrance every time he slides over it, teasing him. When Mickey's hips buckle to get him in, Ian runs his fingers up and down his spine, calming him. “ _Shhh_...Don't wanna stop touching you yet. Wanna feel all of you.“   
  
He lets his hands wander over every part of Mickey's back, feeling the goosebumps that begin to spread beneath his fingertips. His cock slips easily between his ass cheeks, his eyes falling shut from the pleasure it brings him.   
  
“Don't want you to fucking stop,“ his lover pants into the cushion, the left side of his face pressing deep into the pillow, “But I need you in me.“  
  
The redhead's eyes snap back open. He watches every tremble of Mickey's face as his hands travel over his man‘s chest, down to his erection. When he takes him in his hand, slowly stroking those wonderful desperate noises out of Mickey, Ian knows that he can’t wait any longer. He has to give him what he craves. Has to give him what he himself needs. "Alright Mick, I got you."  
  
“ _Ian._ “ It's not more than a whine, before Ian pushes the head of his cock through the tight ring of muscles, remaining still.   
  
“You looked so good today.“ He reassures him through the first sting of pain. “Looked so happy and proud when we got what we needed to get hitched.“ Inch by inch, he enters him more, Mickey gasping under his touch. Ian leans closer, back to his ear. Back to his sensitive spot, where he whispers in a raspy voice, “Needed to have you. Needed to have this. Have _you_ like this.“ He pushes further, Mickey keening for more. There are still some inches left that need to be engulfed. He needs to get balls deep into the core of him, to give Mickey what he always longes for. “Fuck Mick. Your whole body quivers when I do this.“ He rocks back and forth, every slight push getting closer to his goal, making the brunet pant even harder than before. “The way your pulse speeds up when I kiss you here, on your neck.“ he breathes, demonstrating the power he has over his man's body.  
  
Mickey's breath sticks in his throat when Ian stops moving, so close from bottoming out. "You're good for me, Mick? Gonna take all of me?“ he teases him, his blunted nails raking the bare skin of Mickey's side.   
  
“Fuck yes," the black haired man pants, his nods irregular from his tremblings, "Gonna be so good. So fucking good for you." Ian closes his eyes at the promise, letting both of their moans fill the room. He suddenly feels wet lips nibbling at his own, pleading for entrance, which Ian is content to allow. Their tongues melt with each other, Ian still not moving the last few inches into his lover, instead enjoying the tight clenching around his middle. He knows that when he finally enters him completely, it's all just an act on instinct from then on. His body is only able to react on pleasure-- and most of all _need_. Need for Mickey to completely engulf him and let him be inside. "Gonna let you fill me right up. _Fuck_ , gonna let you do whatever you want." Mick tells him between their hungry kisses. He then stops abruptly to look him deep in the eyes, his smile cocky and confident, "Tell me baby, tell me what you wanna do to me.“  
  
Everything in Ian starts tingling, his self control no longer upright. “I’d rather show you.“ With one quick shove of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt, no more space left between them. He is completely surrounded by the wet and tight heat he had missed for so long. _Too_ long. But he doesn’t want to let himself go there right now. He wants to be _here_. With him. In this moment, where they are connected from head to toe and nothing could fit between them. It is perfect. “ _Fuck_ , feel so good, Mick.“ He praises him, knowing his lover is eager to hear it. Mickey always wants to be good for him in bed; wants to be called a 'good boy' and please Ian in all ways.   
  
“Wanna take it all for you," Mickey admits while Ian pulls out slowly, leaving only his head remaining in his contracting ass before snapping his cock back in. "So deep, fuck Ian, come on. _More_. Grab my fucking hair and give it to me.“  
  
A groan escapes Ian's lips at the demand. His eyes flutter closed, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. Who is he to deny his soon-to-be husband? When Ian's fingers grip his hair, he feels Mickey’s breath catch, before moan after moan falls from his parted lips with every brutal thrust. One hand fists into brunet hair, the other slapping hard on the ass cheeks he adores. His eyes fly back open and he can't stop staring. Mickey is a moaning and babbling mess under him, keening and whining everytime Ian jabs his prostate and gives him sharp spanks. It draws moans from them both, how easily Mickey's body falls into the rhythm and gives in to the fast movement.  
  
The redhead's brutal thrusts of his hips shove him forwards, but Mickey always pushes back, eager to get Ian deeper. Harder. More. "Good boy," Ian croons, his own satisfaction riding the thin line of wanting it never to end and letting go. Mickey's flushed face, knitted brows, and high pitched gasps only spur him on to fall into the orgasm he is so desperately working for. And with every snap on the bundle of nerves inside of Mickey, he knows he is driving the bent man into complete lunacy.  
  
"So close. Touch-" Mickey bites down hard on his lip when Ian starts kissing along his lover's neck, feeling the heavy, throbbing pulse on his tongue. "Fuck Ian, _please_ , touch me!" That's the desperation Ian is working for; it's the blissfulness he has wanted to achieve the whole night long.   
  
His left hand is still fisting in his hair, holding his head close to his chest. His right hand wanders from Mickey's hips to his front, pinching and twisting his nipples and earning a cry of pleasure in return. It sets his own body on fire, as he keeps his penetrations upright for the pleading man underneath him. He stops his movements to tease him one last time, his right hand close to the throbbing cock that he purposely neglects.  
  
Ian can see in his strained face that Mickey wants to beg. Wants to plead for release, wants to be touched and fucked. But Ian doesn’t move, so Mickey begins to rock backwards, fucking himself on Ian's nine inches. It takes the taller man's breath away and, for a few seconds, he willingly allows it. But then his hand, already near Mickey's cock, grips his hips and stops him. Mickey whines in response. "Please Ian. Fuckin‘ _please_."   
  
Ian kisses him on the cheek, calming him in a soothing, whispering voice, " _Shh_.. babe, I got you." His hand wanders back to Mickey's groin, finally surrounding the leaking dick. Mickey emits a shuddering breath. Ian starts slowly stroking, his hips still not working, just pressing on the sweet spot inside of the brunet. The hand in Mickey's hair wanders forward and lays around his stretched throat. Ian's nose touches his fiancè's ear before whispering softly, “Scream my name when you come into my hand, Mick.“  
  
And with that, he continues thrusting. In and out, more brutal and harder than ever before. Mickey is gasping Ian’s name as the man angles his hips to drive against his prostate dead on. Both of their voices grow and fill the room, matching each other in volume and intensity. Just as predicted, Ian feels the muscles of his body working only on instinct. Worshipping the body underneath his fingertips, gripping harder around Mickey's throat to suck the maximum of pleasure out of him.  
  
Ian runs his hands up the length of Mickey’s body, drinking in the sight of him. It's the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, Mickey already on the brink of his climax. Ian feels himself getting closer to the edge, as well. The prickling of his gut starts spreading over his whole body as Mickey's hole convulses around him. Everything goes white, and Mickey emits one last loud cry of Ian's name. So desperate. So satisfied. So fulfilled.  
   
It's too much. He spills into Ian's stroking hand, teasing him further through the smaller man's orgasm, while Ian finds himself at the climax of his lust. The contracting pleasure around his length milks him through the shocks of his orgasm, his load coating Mickey's inner walls. "Fuuuuuuuck, Mickey, Mick, _Mick_!" he pants, while they both rock through the aftershocks.  
  
Even though they are both spent from the exhaustion of this wonderful connection, Ian still makes slight movements inside of him. It’s a kink he has had and always will have with Mickey. Teasing the hyper sensitive man by giving him gentle jabs with his already softening dick against the riled spot. He always did it before (before the horrible breakup) and it was something he had missed all the years he had been apart from this man.   
  
Both of their chests are heaving, panting in unison. Mickey shifts uncomfortably beneath him. “You gonna free me, or what?!“   
  
“Only if you let me stay inside you a bit longer.“ No way he's gonna give up on this unique feeling. Being surrounded by the man he loves, feeling the warmth of himself marking him on the inside, while laying on top of him and nuzzling in the crook of his neck, where he can smell his post-coital smell. _Mickey‘s_ smell.  
  
“Yeah, you creep. I'll let you stay inside for a bit. But now--“ he starts wiggling under Ian's weight, his fingers poking into Ian's belly, tickling him, “Free me and let me breathe. _Geez-_ -“  
  
The redhead tries to swerve his ticklings as best as he can while still holding his soft dick inside and giggling like an idiot.   


 

  
Staring at the ocean in front of him, with the sun appearing in the sky creating beautiful pinks and oranges on the horizon, and his soon-to-be husband chasing their son on the beach, Ian can't think of anything that could make his life better right now. He's here. With him. Living the life he always wanted.   
  
A life full of laughter, joy and _love_. 

  
  
  
____________________________

  
  
_Dear family,_  
  
_We're sending you some pics, Mandy and Svet took during our wedding._  
  
_We'd like to thank you for the wonderful day, which we were able to experience together with you and that we'll keep in our hearts forever. Our wedding was like a perfect dream, and you've all contributed to make this day unforgettable for us. For the help and support, the many ideas and surprises, the numerous congratulations and gifts we want to thank you from the bottom of our hearts. What remains is not only the memory of a beautiful wedding day, but also the certainty that we have wonderful people in our lives._  
  
_All our love,_  
  
_Mickey and Ian García_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOW!!!
> 
> It feels so good to be back. After months of not writing, it feels like coming home <3
> 
> Thank you for your patience. As always: kudos and/or comments are highly appreciated!
> 
> xoxo


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